


Be Still My Foolish Heart (Don't Ruin This On Me)

by thiccbuckybarnes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assault, Both Steve and Bucky are 17, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bully Brock Rumlow, Bullying, Consensual Underage Sex, Drunk Sex, Everything Hurts, First Time, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, I like my angst as an emotional rollercoaster, Intoxicated Sex, Jock Steve Rogers, Just wanna wrap Bucky up in a blanket and give him some hot cocoa, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Nerd Bucky Barnes, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Top Steve Rogers, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thiccbuckybarnes/pseuds/thiccbuckybarnes
Summary: Bucky Barnes ends up at a house party that he really shouldn't be at on a Saturday night.--Or, the super angsty high school au I've always wanted.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 46
Kudos: 428





	Be Still My Foolish Heart (Don't Ruin This On Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Please see End Notes for a detailed description of the reasons for using the Archive warnings and other tags.
> 
> My internet has been down for two days now so I finished this and am posting it on my phone, so please let me know if you see any errors--grammatical or technical. It's been interesting trying to use my phone for this. I wish I could meme in the comments but my keyboard won't let me!
> 
> Also, I don't mean to fool anyone--everything I've been posting lately has been mostly half done and was just rotting in my Google drive. Social distancing and mandated stay at home orders are just propelling me to avoid doing school work and I felt inspired, what can I say?
> 
> If you couldn't tell, I am positively weak for angst. Please know there is a happy ending (maybe more than one?😉) and the harms that befall these characters do (or will) get resolved.
> 
> Title from Hozier’s Almost (Sweet Music)

Bucky Barnes ends up at a house party that he really shouldn't be at on a Saturday night.

Well, he guesses he _could_ be here, surrounded by people he only knows from afar, classmates he's barely ever exchanged words with besides during group work or accidentally bumping into them in the hallway. These people don’t know him, don’t pay any attention to him at school, so why would they pay attention to him at a party? He can’t really get kicked out if nobody knows who he is, right?

He really shouldn't be here, though, because he wasn't _invited._ Natasha was invited, not him. But Natasha insists that house parties--especially _Tony Stark_ parties--always allow for at least one additional plus one. Bucky had just rolled his eyes when she threw clothes at him to wear and pushed him out of his house.

It wasn't that Bucky disliked partying, because really, what self respecting senior didn't like to get drunk without their parents knowing? Of course Bucky liked partying. But he only liked it when he was with people he knew, namely Natasha, Clint, and Wanda.

Because see, Bucky wasn't popular. Bucky was a nobody at Brooklyn East High. Bucky was the fucking captain of the scholastic team and was in the robotics club. Bucky was a self-proclaimed nerd (which sure, he only called himself a nerd so it stung less when others did it but still, the point remains.)

Sure he ran cross country, and everyone was nice to him in the hallways. But the fact remained that Bucky was a nobody who shouldn’t be at one of Tony freaking Stark’s legendary house parties on a Saturday night.

But, alas, here he was.

Stark lived in a mansion, of course. A mansion in fucking Brooklyn, a city where normal walk-ups barely had an arms-length between each house. Stark’s mansion has both a front garden, a back garden, a fountain, and a fucking swimming pool. But whatever, there was free booze, right?

Natasha drags him through the door and there isn’t anyone who even acknowledges them, which Bucky finds really unsafe. A murderer could walk in and nobody would pay them any mind.

He’s herded into the kitchen where there are what seems like thousands of red Solo cups, endless beer bottles, and more liquor than most restaurant bars have. Nat digs in the fridge and finds a big pitcher of punch.

“Stark always has jungle juice,” she informs Bucky as she pours them both a cup of the punch. Bucky frowns into his cup.

“What the fuck is jungle juice?” He asks into his cup. Nat laughs as she puts the pitcher back and clinks her cup with his. Or it would be a clink if it wasn’t a fucking plastic Solo cup.

“Juice that makes you go wild,” she says ominously, and takes a big swallow. Bucky is not impressed by the joke, but takes a tentative sip.

Huh. It wasn’t bad.

“C’mon, let’s go dance,” she says as she then drags him to a group of dancing bodies. Bucky shrugs and takes another drink before following suit. It was Ariana Grande, he had to dance, ok? That was the law.

Two hours and six cups of punch later, and Bucky loved parties.

He found Clint and Wanda at some point and has been hanging off of Wanda’s arm ever since.

“Isn’t this party great, guys?” Bucky asks, lifting his cup back up into the air for a cheer. A few kids near him laughed and lifted their cups in cheers as well. Look at that, Bucky was making friends! Awesome.

“Bucky!” Clint yells, although he was standing right next to him.

“I’m right here, man,” Bucky says. Clint laughs.

“Yeah, let’s do some shots!” Clint yells again. Bucky yells, too, because why not?

Clint pours more shots than there are people (people meaning him, Natasha, Clint, and Wanda) so Bucky is handing out shots to people nearby. He’s not really looking up because he’s already been sloshing liquor all over his fingers. He hands out three shots before he is cheering again and raising his own shot cup.

“To Tony Stark!” He yells, like a victory cry despite him never even meeting Stark. Everyone in the house seems to cheer along with him as the seven of them take their shots and several more people all take a chug of their drinks.

A half hour later and Bucky is three sheets to the wind. Like _fucked-up_ fucked up. 

He’s sitting on the counter drinking a cup of water that Wanda handed him, surveying the room. The kitchen is the biggest fucking kitchen he’s ever been in. He says as much to the room.

“Yeah, makes it a bitch to find where the maid hides the Oreo O’s from me in the morning,” says someone to his left. Bucky looks at who spoke and finds that the room takes a moment to catch up with his eyes. Or his eyes catch up with his brain. What happened again?

Tony Stark stood leaning against the counter to Bucky’s left.

“Dude, Oreo O’s are my favorite fucking cereal like, ever,” Bucky says. “If you can’t find where yours are, come over to my house and I’ll feed you.”

Tony looks over at him and considers what he says. He nods and takes a sip of his drink. Bucky wonders if it’s jungle juice. He could use some more of that.

“I’m gonna hold you to that promise, Barnes,” Tony says as he points his cup at him, and walks away.

His eyes follow Stark mostly because he is trying to figure out how Tony knows his name. He walks over to a group of his friends and joins the conversation, and when Bucky glances at who he is speaking with his eyes make contact with one Steve Rogers.

Bucky feels his mouth open slightly, his suddenly tethered to reality only by the mutual eye contact. Steve is so handsome. He’s the quarterback and captain of the football team, and he has pretty blonde hair and nice hands and is really fucking built for someone who is only seventeen it really wasn’t very fair.

Once he starts thinking about his muscles and just how many and how big they were he can’t stop thinking about how Steve could use those muscles to do things to Bucky. Like hold his hand or pick him up bridal-style and carry him across a big puddle or hold him down as he rammed--

“--Bucky?”

Bucky realizes that he and Steve are still staring at each other, and Steve has an eyebrow quirked and an amused tilt to his yummy looking lips.

Wanda is also shaking his arm.

“Bucky, sweetie, do I need to take you home? We could share a Lyft,” she’s saying. Bucky suddenly sobers, or at least, sobers as much as a person who has downed almost an entire bottle of vodka in four hours can sober themselves.

“Y-yeah, lemme, uh,” he glances back over, and Steve is gone. He looks back at Wanda who looks very concerned. “Let me uh, go to the bathroom really quick. I feel kind of sick.”

She nods and lets him go. Bucky is then very aware that he has never been in this mansion before and has barely left the massive kitchen and the adjoining dining room the entire time he’s been here. As he stumbles from room to room looking for a bathroom, he’s getting farther and farther away from the crowded areas and closer into the weird areas where couples are pressing each other against walls and furniture while trying to eat each other.

He walks up a flight of stairs and finally finds an empty room that also happens to be a bathroom and he lets out a small cheer in his head before he steps inside.

Except somebody is stepping in behind him and he barely blinks before the door is closed and he hears a click and---oh.

“Uh,” he says because Steve Rogers is in the bathroom with him and he may have lied to Wanda saying he was sick but it would have been really awkward if he was and Steve was just standing there while he hurled into a toilet.

“Sorry, uh, Bucky--” Steve says bashfully with his hand rubbing the back of his neck while he looks anywhere but Bucky and Bucky wonders when the fuck Steve learned his name.

“Hi,” is what Bucky settles on because he’s really fucking drunk and he’s only about 60% sure this is actually happening in real life and he’s not just talking to himself in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey, uh, sorry I just wanted to talk to you but I panicked and locked you in the bathroom with me instead,” Steve says, narrating exactly what just happened. Bucky blinks once, twice, and then bursts out laughing.

He’s laughing so hard his side hurts and he wonders if oh, maybe he is going to be sick? But then Steve’s hands are on his face holding him still and Bucky’s laugh gets caught in his throat and--

“I thought I was imagining it, but you _do_ , don’t you?” Steve asks, mouth getting really close to Bucky's. Steve’s breath smells good. He wants to drown in it. Is that weird?

“I do?” He asks, not knowing what he does or what Steve does because his eyes are glued to Steve’s mouth and oh, look it’s smiling and getting closer and--

Steve’s kissing Bucky.

_Steve’s kissing Bucky._

Bucky’s brain takes a minute to reboot and catch up with what is happening, and by the time the Windows power-up tune is playing in his brain Steve Roger’s tongue is in his mouth and he’s frenching with the captain of the fucking football team.

Bucky is pressed gently to the wall like all of those other couples down the hall necking and Steve looks down at him with this pretty little smile, his eyes lidded and warm as he brushes his thumb across Bucky’s cheek and all Bucky can do is stare at his mouth and wish it was back on his and--

“--I just had no idea you felt the same,” Steve was saying things, Bucky realizes belatedly. He nods dumbly which maybe he shouldn’t because the room was already kind of tilting but he wanted to agree so that Steve would put his mouth back to where it was before.

“Really? You will?” Steve asks, eyes bright and smiling. 

Bucky stares at him for a beat before he thinks that maybe he should respond.

“Yeah,” he says, not sure what he is agreeing to but Steve’s body feels good against his so what was the problem, anyways?

His answer was apparently the right one before Bucky’s face is back between Steve’s hands and their mouths are crushed together. Bucky can’t help the moan that escapes his throat because Steve is using his big muscles to hold him against the wall just like he was imagining earlier except they still have clothes on.

“We still have clothes on,” Bucky says, trying to sound casual but it comes out as a whine and where the fuck did that voice come from?

“Shh, I’ll take care of you,” Steve says in that low voice and oh, Bucky’s mind must short out momentarily because he blinks and suddenly his pants are around his hips and Steve is gripping him in his hand and ohh--

“Ohhhhh,” he sighs, and man he feels drunk. Which, he is. But he feels more drunk than before with Steve’s big hand around him. Bucky closes his eyes because the room is spinning but he wants to keep them open so that he can see Steve. So that he can know that this is real.

He kisses Steve again because what else do you do when someone is giving you a drunken handjob in some rich asshole's bathroom? He hears some kind of high whimpering and he thinks it might be him but he doesn't really know. 

Clumsily he gropes around the muscled mass that is Steve's front until he finds the blond's own erection straining against his pants. He thumbs it, albeit messily and with zero coordination, but Steve seems to enjoy his fumbling with how much he's letting out those sexy little groans of his.

And just then, Steve pins Bucky's hips to the wall and sinks to his knees, immediately swallowing Bucky down to the root.

And Bucky was really, _really_ drunk.

He whines high and loud, and that time he knew it was him because he was staring at himself in the mirror while Steve acquainted his tonsils with Bucky’s dick. One hand settled on the back of Steve’s neck while his other gripped a beefy shoulder, and he couldn’t break his eye contact with himself in the mirror while he felt Steve deepthroat him both through his dick and under his hand.

It was the hottest moment of his entire fucking _life._

He moans breathy again, watching himself with his red face and glazed eyes. Steve was really going to town; hot, wet, and doing some sort of swirly thing with his tongue that Bucky really appreciated before going all the way down again. Steve’s big hand holds Bucky’s narrow hips in place against the wall, which Bucky was grateful for because his legs were starting to feel like jelly.

Bucky swallows thickly before muttering out, “G-gonna come, Ste--” and then Steve goes so far down again that his nose presses snuggly against Bucky’s pubic hair, swallows around him once, twice, and then Bucky is coming so hard that he may have blacked out for a second or two.

When he opens his eyes, Steve is still on his knees but he was looking up at him with a flushed face. One big hand was still gripping Bucky’s hip but the other was--

Bucky moans, watching Steve jerk himself off while staring up at Bucky, some of his come still on Steve’s lip.

Wow. What a fucking night.

Bucky does his best to slide down to his knees on his jelly legs, and only slightly stumbles before pushing Steve back and urging him to sit up a bit. He kissed him on the way down, catching the bit of spunk still on Steve’s lip. Steve rumbles out a moan, and wasn’t that just the sexiest thing Bucky would ever hear in his whole fucking life?

With some maneuvering, Bucky gets them to switch positions so that Steve is standing but leaning heavily on the sink counter and Bucky is on his knees. Steve still has his hand around his dick, pumping himself slowly. Bucky feels his heavy eyes almost close all the way as he opens his mouth wide and lets his tongue hang out a bit.

He’s never done this before--never done any of this. But he has watched enough porn to know the basics of giving head. And with any luck, Steve would do most of the work.

Steve lets out a rumbling moan again, and puts his free hand on the side of Bucky’s face to cup his jaw, and his other hand guides his dick into Bucky’s waiting mouth.

Not the taste he was expecting, but Steve was warm, tasted like skin, and a little sour. It was okay, but when Bucky opens his eyes to look up at Steve, whose cloudy blue eyes were looking down at him, enraptured by the sight, Bucky can’t help the whine that tears through his chest.

Steve rolls his hips in, easing his dick in and out. Bucky doesn’t know what to do, feels too drunk to really coordinate his tongue moving with the whole breathing thing; wasn’t sure he could follow enough to inhale when Steve pulled out so he just held his breath and waited.

Steve runs his hands through Bucky’s hair, getting caught on the bun that had once been tied on the top of his head but was now loose and hanging at the back of his head. Steve groans again while fucking in, then his his stuttered, and he grabs the base of himself as he pulls out and starts coming on Bucky’s chin.

Bucky had half the mind to close his eyes, since he knew from sex ed sophomore year that if sperm gets in your eye, then you could go blind because the little swimmers would be be alive and moving for a while before they died. He quickly opens his mouth wide, because that’s what guys always did in porn with the money shot at the end, right? And he lets out a low moan to be more appealing.

Spunk tastes _disgusting_. It was hot and sour and nothing like porn made it seem like it tasted.

He couldn’t help the wince from the taste, and Steve chuckles above him. He feels Steve reach down under his arms to help pull him up. Bucky hadn’t noticed that his legs had fallen asleep, and now he feels unsteady on his feet for a whole other reason.

Steve settles him against the counter and goes rummaging through the bathroom. Bucky's scared to open his eyes partly because he is afraid spunk could still get in them, and partly because he doesn’t want to know what Steve looked like post-blowing his load. He's not sure if he could handle it.

He hears the water run, and then Steve’s hand is cupping the side of Bucky’s face again.

“Here, sorry about that,” Steve says, humor to his voice, like he was smiling. Steve runs the lukewarm rag over his face, cleaning him up.

Bucky ppeeksan eye open, and sees Steve smiling down at him.

“Hey,” Steve says, bending down to peck Bucky on the lips and then turning to ring out the rag under the water again so that he could wash off their dicks.

“Hey,” Bucky says back, voice sounding funny to his ears. He still feels like he was underwater, and like the room was tilting a little bit. But Steve is here, even if it is only for a while longer. Steve Rogers sucked his dick, and was now wiping spit and come off of him, and keeps peeking up from what he's doing with a bright little smile.

“There has to be mouthwash around here somewhere,” Steve was saying, turning and pulling his pants up and buttoning them. Bucky scrambles to do the same with himself, but his fingers are clumsy and uncoordinated and he still feels a little shaky.

Steve turns to him with mouthwash now in his hands and frowns a bit.

“Shit,” he says, and Bucky shoots his head up while his hands still fumble with the button of his jeans.

Bucky opens his mouth to ask, but he has dick breath and suddenly becomes very self conscious of it and reaches out for the mouthwash, abandoning his pants. His coordination with the mouthwash isn’t much better, but Steve helps him pour a little in the cap and tip it into his mouth.

Steve waits until Bucky has gargled--with a bit of difficulty--and spits the minty pain juice into the sink before saying, “You’re too drunk to have properly consented.”

Bucky looks at him, mouth slightly open, feeling some minty drool at the corner of his mouth.

“Whaa?” He asks. Steve frowns, and takes Bucky’s hands in his.

“Buck, I’m so sorry. I should have known, I mean, I was watching you all night and I know you’d had a lot to drink but--”

“I’m fine,” Bucky says suddenly, which, was a big fat fucking lie. Steve frowns again, and opens his mouth to say something, but Bucky cuts him off. “This isn’t my first rodeo,” Bucky says, which is another lie because Bucky has _never_ been to the rodeo, wasn’t even sure what a rodeo fucking _was_ because he was a Brooklyn boy. But, you know. Sentiments, or whatever.

Steve sighs, and reaches forward to help Bucky button his pants up. Which really shouldn’t have been intimate, but it really was.

He was too busy staring at Steve’s pretty hands to be paying attention to him.

“--just, for a long time, you know? I don’t want to screw this up.” Bucky looks back up at him to see him looking at Bucky.

“You haven’t. Won’t,” Bucky says, despite not really knowing what Steve was talking about. Bucky doesn’t get drunk very often, and he definitely had never had a mouth on his dick before, but this was all a very nice experience. He decides to tell Steve that much. “This is nice,” he says. Steve laughs and rubs the back of his own neck.

“Yeah, well, I’m going to make it up to you, okay?” He says, smiling. Bucky smiles, too.

“Okay,” he says, not really sure how or why Steve is going to make it up to him. Maybe he feels bad about coming on his face? But he washed it off.

Steve looks at him for a bit, smiling. Then, he seems to have decided something, and nods.

“Okay,” he says, voice soft. He leans down and kisses Bucky again, but just a lasting peck.

“I should find Wanda,” he says when they part, because Wanda had said something about going home. Steve rubs his side a bit and nods.

“Yeah, make sure you get home safely.” Bucky nods, taking the command seriously.

“Yeah.”

He blinks and he’s walking down the stairs, looking for Wanda. He feels drunker out in the party, with the music loud and the many unfamiliar bodies. He circles around the house once, slowly, only met with a hundred unfamiliar faces. Finally, he steps back into the living room. He looks around and his eyes somehow land on Steve who is across the room.

Steve doesn’t see him, but he’s saying something to a group of three or four guys. He laughs, face rosey and cute, and he rubs the back of his neck.

One of the guys turns around and looks straight at Bucky, frowning.

It’s Brock Rumlow. Bucky has never really spoken to Brock, but he knows he is on the football team with Steve. Brock is staring at him, frowning. He crosses his arms and lifts his chin at Bucky, almost like a challenge. Bucky isn’t really sure what’s going on, but he doesn’t like it.

Steve says something to make the rest of them laugh, and even Brock tilts his mouth up into a nasty smile. Bucky’s stomach drops and he suddenly wonders--is Steve, is Steve talking about _him_? Is he telling his friends what they just did?

Is Steve laughing at him?

“--Bucky!”

Turning around, he finds Wanda and Natasha walking up to him.

“There you are!” Wanda says, exasperated. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?”

Bucky waves a little distractedly, and turns back around, but Brock has turned back to their group. Steve is talking to some girl--Sharon something--and seems to be having a good time.

Bucky feels empty all of a sudden, feels cheap like a vending machine tuna sandwich that makes you sick. All he wants to do is go home.

“I’m drunk,” he says, a little dejectedly. Nat rolls her eyes, and they take a Lyft home.

~*~

Bucky hates himself for the rest of the weekend. He hugs the toilet for most of Sunday, and his mother tuts at him disappointedly because she isn’t stupid and knows right away that he’s hungover, not sick.

His sister Becca teases him too, but when she sees him be too sad to just be hungover, she sits with him in his bed and watches Hallmark movies with him for most of the afternoon.

~*~

When Monday rolls around, he’s feeling much more like himself. He’s a little in denial that the Bathroom Encounter actually happened, seeing as his throat could have been sore from all the puking he did the day before and there were no lasting marks from Steve’s mouth or hands.

He’s pretty much convinced himself that it never happened until after third period history. He’s at his locker, switching his books out, when he closes it and sees Steve a little further down the hallway talking to some of his friends.

Bucky’s heart leaps up into his throat, suddenly unsure of what to do. He has to walk past Steve and his friends to get to his class, but he doesn’t want Steve to see him. He’s embarrassed about the imaginary encounter in the bathroom. He’s worked himself up into believing it never happened--he was just really drunk. But there Steve was, still perfect, still handsome. Mouth smiling, laughing.

A mouth that was on his dick.

Like Steve could hear his thoughts, he looks up just then and meets Bucky’s eyes. His heart stops, mouth hanging open a bit.

Steve smiles at him, then turns back to his friends to say goodbye, and he starts walking _towards_ Bucky.

Bucky panics.

Bucky turns around and runs.

Well, he doesn’t _run_. But he walks very quickly, trying not to stumble as he maneuvers around the traffic of people in the hallway. Distantly, he hears the minute-bell ring and he pushes into the boys bathroom just as everyone starts to file out.

He’s breathing kind of heavily even though he wasn’t actually running.

Panic, his mind supplies helpfully.

He runs water and splashes it on his face, trying to calm down. It was just Steve. He was probably just walking to class that was in Bucky’s direction. He didn’t have to freak out. 

He grabs a paper towel to wash off his face, and hears the bathroom door open.

It’s Steve. He’s clutching the strap of his backpack kind of tightly as it’s slung over one shoulder. Bucky’s frozen, just staring at him. Steve breaks eye contact to look around the bathroom. Looking for other people.

“Hey,” he says. 

The late bell rings. They should be in class, but they’re not.

“Hey,” Bucky says back.

A few seconds of silence. Bucky is still holding the wet paper towel.

Steve sighs and looks at his shoes.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Bucky’s not really sure what to do with that information.

“What?”

Steve looks back up, looking sad.

“I’m sorry. About the party.”

 _Oh._ Somewhere, Bucky knew it had happened. Hoped it had happened, but also hoped it hadn’t happened.

“It’s okay,” he says, somehow finding his voice. Steve clearly regretted what happened. That he did it with Bucky.

He regretted doing it with Bucky.

“I knew you’d had some to drink, but I was just so excited that you--I mean, you know. I just, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you,” Steve says, finishing with a miserable tilt to his voice. Bucky’s mouth falls open.

“Steve, you didn’t take advantage of me,” he says, and Steve looks up to meet his eyes.

“Really?” He asks, mouth trying not to smile but failing.

“Yeah, of course. I wasn’t even that drunk,” he says, smiling back, lying through his teeth. He was fucking trashed that night.

“So--we’re, y’know--” _good?_ Bucky’s mind supplies.

“Yeah, of course,” he says again, can’t help the smile on his face. Steve looks down, hiding his smile, and then looks around again before stepping forward.

“Can I kiss you, Buck?” Steve asks, and _oh_ , Bucky gets it now. It makes sense.

Bucky is a secret. 

Was Steve out? Was he keeping his attraction to guys a secret? Bucky didn’t really _come out_ to his friends--not that he was keeping it a secret. But, he just made a comment about how attractive Jake Gyllenhaal was in his new movie and that was that, no questions asked.

But Bucky knew Steve had dated Peggy Carter, and he saw Peggy’s cousin hanging all over him at Stark’s party. Maybe he’s keeping it a secret. 

Bucky is Steve’s secret. He doesn’t want anyone to know.

“You gonna make a habit of kissing me in bathrooms, Rogers?” Bucky asks, not sure where his biting humor comes from. Still, he steps closer to Steve as his cheek is cupped.

“Only if you’ll let me,” Steve teases back, and dips down to press his lips to Bucky’s. 

It’s just as magical as he remembered.

It was devastating.

~*~

It becomes a thing.

They exchange numbers, and Steve texts him _constantly._ Bucky would be excited about it if it didn’t hurt a little every time he looked at his phone, seeing a new message. But it’s still thrilling that Steve’s interested in him. Even if it was a secret, even if Steve wasn’t out or was out and just ashamed to be with a nerdy weird kid like Bucky. It was still thrilling.

After that first Monday, Steve and Bucky meet in between random classes to kiss in the empty bathroom. Even if it is a little disappointing that they can’t be public, Bucky still gets to kiss _Steve Rogers._

Steve texts him about how much he hates chemistry, and tells him how nice his hair had looked that day. They haven’t messed around again yet, but the stolen kisses and sneaking around is enough fun to keep Bucky on his toes. 

Except a week after they started this thing, Steve leaves the bathroom before he does with a kiss and a wink. Bucky waits a moment after Steve leaves to walk out himself. But instead of an empty hallway, he’s met with one Brock Rumlow.

Brock is standing in front of the bathroom door like a brick wall, arm crossed over his chest again and a scowl on his face.

“Barnes,” he says, gruff. Bucky blinks up at him.

“You waiting for me or somethin’, Rumlow?” Bucky asks in response, trying to step around him but Brock unfolds his arms and grips onto Bucky’s shoulder tightly. Bucky winces in pain, trying to maneuver out of his grip, but Brock just crowds up against him and pushes him into the wall next to the bathroom door.

He wonders where Steve had gone. He couldn’t have gone far, right?

“Barnes,” Brock repeats. “I think we have a bit of a problem on our hands.”

Bucky looks up at him, and swallows hard.

“Y-yeah?” He asks, looking down the hallway on either side of them. Noone is there.

“Yeah,” Brock says, voice low. He inches closer, ducks his head like he’s about to tell Bucky a secret. “A little fag is taking up time from the captain. Polluting his head with all of his faggy little advances. Think we need to rectify the situation.”

Bucky’s stomach drops, ice dripping down his spine in sudden terror. _Where did Steve go?_

“O-oh?” He responds, not sure what else to say. It was clear that Brock was talking about him, right? Brock tightens his grip on Bucky’s shoulder, making him flinch from the pain. “Brock, what--”

Brock’s other hand comes up to grip Bucky’s chin hard, forcing him to look back at him. Brock is still scowling, an angry tilt to his mouth and his eyebrows drawn tight.

“Stay the fuck away from him, you little faggot,” Brock snarls, and then ushes away from Bucky so hard that his head hits the wall behind him. His legs give out, and he has to grip against the wall to keep himself from falling over. But Brock is already walking away.

No one was there to see what happened, no one was there. Brock just walks away, and Bucky--

He lets out a sob, feeling his legs shake. He’s breathing hard, his vision swimming. 

_What the fuck was that?_

~*~

_**Steve:** Hey, my mom works the late shift tonight. Want to come over?_

~*~

Steve lives in a neat little walk-up a few blocks away from Bucky. Bucky had insisted that he had to run home to do something for his mom, but in reality he just didn’t want anyone seeing him walk home with Steve.

He still felt a bit shaken from his encounter with Brock, but he’s decided to brush it off. Brock couldn’t know what was going on with him and Steve, right? Hell, Bucky didn’t even know what was going on with him and Steve. 

He can’t help but wonder, though, how did Steve not know what Brock thought of him? Steve must not talk about Bucky to his friends, which was fair--Bucky didn’t tell any of his friends about Steve. It was a secret, wasn’t it? They were just messing around.

Or at least, Steve was just messing around. Messing with Bucky, wasn’t he? Bucky was just in for the ride. He’d had a crush on Steve for forever. And Steve--well. 

It was clear what Steve wanted.

“Sorry for the mess. It’s just me and my mom, but we’re both so busy there’s not a ton of time to--” Steve stops, and grabs Bucky’s arm. Bucky had been looking around and really, the house wasn’t messy at all. It just looked lived-in.

“Hey, you okay?” Steve asks, voice soft and tender. Bucky avoids his eyes.

“Yeah, uh, why?” He asks, and sets his backpack down next to the couch. Steve tugs at him gently. Bucky gives up because really, how could he not? He was so weak to Steve. He turns and looks up at him.

“You’ve just been really quiet lately, is everything alright? You’re usually so… bubbly,” Steve says. Bucky frowns.

“How would you know how I normally am?” He asks with a little too much bite. Steve is clearly hurt by the words, or at least look to be hurt. Bucky feels bad instantly.

“Sorry, he says, sighing with frustration. “Just been a little stressed with school lately. I shouldn’t take it out on you, that’s not fair,” he says, which is messed up because he wasn’t stressed with school and it was all about Steve. But Steve gives him a relieved little smile, and Bucky can’t take back the words, can’t bring himself to do it.

They sit down next to each other on Steve’s couch, and Steve brings a hand up to run through Bucky’s hair. He’s looking at him, and Bucky’s looking back, and it’s such a nice feeling. Bucky can’t ruin this, right? Even if it is fake, or a secret, or some big prank so Steve can tell his friends about it and laugh. Even if this is all just ammunition for Brock to be an ass to him.

Bucky doesn’t want Steve to stop looking at him like this, and he’d willingly take whatever heat in order to keep it just like this.

Steve leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky sighs into it. It feels like the week’s stress just rolls off of his body with this one kiss. No one is here to judge him. Rumlow isn’t here to bully him. It’s just him and Steve.

They kiss for a while, little zips of electricity running up Bucky’s body from how thrilling and delicious it is to feel. Soon, Steve is pushing them down so that he is over Bucky, kissing him deeply. Bucky can’t help the little mewl he lets out when Steve arranges his limbs so that his thigh is in between Bucky’s legs.

“Like that?” Steve asks, voice low and rumbling. The vibrations run through Bucky’s body, playing him like an easy instrument, like he knows exactly how to strum Bucky’s body. It’s exhilarating and addicting, and Bucky wants more.

They kiss more, and more, and soon Steve’s mouth and trailing down Bucky’s neck and sucking a bruise where his neck meets his shoulder. Bucky moans again, holding onto Steve tightly. He feels helpless, but in a good way.

Steve’s hands make their way down to their pants, and asks, “May I?” while thumbing the zipper to Bucky’s jeans. Bucky nods his head jerkily, feeling hot and wanting and in need of Steve’s hands everywhere. He pops the button of Bucky’s pants and slowly pulls his zipper down while pressing another kiss to Bucky’s throat, and inches his hand in between the folds of his jeans.

Bucky groans a little loudly, lifting his hips a bit for Steve to tug his pants down a bit. Bucky finds his own hands gripping Steve’s front, trying to get his pants open as well. Steve chuckles, and does the work for Bucky. Soon, both of their cocks are out, and Steve reaches down to grab them together in his big hand.

Bucky can’t help the long breath he lets out, closing his eyes and topping his head back. He loses himself in the sensation of Steve’s hand sliding up and down his dick, the hard length of Steve’s own pressing up against him. It’s heady.

They kiss more, open-mouthed and lazy. Bucky rolls his hips with Steve’s movements. Bucky moans again, starting to feel the need to rush, the need to chase his climax. He exhales a frustrated groan and reaches down to cover Steve’s hand with his own, urging him to go faster.

“I love the sounds you make,” Steve says, voice deep and dark in his ear. And oh, isn’t that lovely to hear? Bucky whines, high but soft, and turns his head to kiss Steve for telling him.

They roll their hips together, hands interlaced around their cocks, breathing heavily into each other's mouths as they kiss and moan and rock against one another. Steve comes first, stuttering his hips and pulling long drags of his hand over their cocks as he groans low and hot. The view of Steve’s eyes fluttering closed, brows knit together in concentration as he comes, cock pulsing against Bucky’s, makes Bucky follow him over the edge. 

They make a mess of Bucky’s shirt, and Steve smiles bashfully and kisses Bucky in apology. Bucky can’t bring himself to be mad when Steve takes his shirt and gives him one of his own to wear.

They order a pizza with the $20 bill that Steve’s mom had left him on the counter, and eat curled up next to each other on the couch while watching Treehouse Masters on the Animal Planet. They joke and laugh about how the show has nothing to even do with animals, but marvel over the cool treehouses and talk about what they’d want in their own treehouses.

It’s a perfect evening, and when Steve kisses him goodnight before Bucky leaves, he even lets himself pretend it’s real.

~*~

_**Steve:** Can’t stop thinking about you_

_**Steve:** Miss you already_

~*~

Bucky wears Steve’s shirt to school the following Monday. He wears a hoodie over it, though, so nobody can tell. It’s his own little secret, and he wears Steve’s shirt like a hidden brand.

He’s walking to his locker before lunch and sees Steve talking to a group of friends a few feet away. He pretends to not see Steve, especially after catching a glimpse of Brock. Even though he knows no one can tell that he’s wearing Steve’s shirt, he’s still hyper-aware of the clothing on his body. And who it belongs to.

The owner comes up to him as he’s setting his books into his locker.

“Hey,” Steve says, smiling and leaning against the lockers neck to Bucky’s.

Bucky jumps, and tries to act normal but his heart is in his throat. This wasn’t part of their game at school; Steve follows Bucky into the bathroom and they make out and then he leaves before Bucky does to avoid suspicion.

Steve can’t just walk up to him and talk to him in a crowded hallway--people will catch on.

“Oh, hey,” Bucky says, trying to act casual but failing miserably. He glances at Steve, who is looking at him curiously. Maybe Steve is testing him?

He looks over Steve’s shoulder and sees the football guys a few feet away.

Brock is watching.

Steve seems to have sensed Bucky’s apprehension, and looks around himself.

“Sorry, is this okay?” Steve asks in a quiet voice. His hesitancy confuses Bucky, like it’s Bucky he’s worried about instead of his own reputation.

“O-oh, yeah, sorry. Just a lot on my mind. What’s up?” He asks, moving things around in his locker that he doesn’t have to. But it makes him feel better that it looks like he’s doing something, that Steve is the one talking to him and not the other way around.

He’s not sure if that matters much to Rumlow.

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but doesn’t say anything because arms are wrapping around Bucky’s shoulders. He jumps, and looks over to see it’s just Natasha.

“James, whose you’re friend?” She asks. Wanda and Clint come up behind them.

Steve smiles and stands up straight, looking at Bucky.

“Oh, this is, uhm, this is Steve,” he says, gesturing slightly to the hulking blonde in front of them. Steve quirks his brow at him, smile falling a bit and looking a little confused, like he was waiting for something. But Bucky doesn’t say anything else, isn’t sure what to even say.

“Natasha,” Nat introduces, waving a bit. Clint and Wanda introduce themselves respectfully. They all look at Bucky.

Brock is still watching them.

“Well, lunch calls. See you later, Steve,” Bucky says, walking out from under Natasha. His friends follow him, but Steve stays put, watching after them.

Later, Bucky has an anxiety attack in the boys locker room during his sixth period gym class. He came in late, after everyone had changed and went into the gym. Sitting alone on the bench in front of his locker, he closes his eyes and tries to get a handle on himself.

When he opens his eyes, Borck is standing there not looking pleased.

“I told you,” is all he says before he steps forward. He grabs the back of Bucky’s hoodie in one swift movement and throws him forward into the row of lockers.

Bucky scrambles to get away, his panic increasing tenfold. His blood is pounding in his ears, but he’s also dizzy from the blow. Brock bends down and picks him up easy, and why shouldn’t he? Bucky is scrawny--he’s just a runner, but Brock is a football player. A defenseman. Steve’s defenseman.

Brock slams him against the lockers, his back to them this time. He holds him up, and without warning punches him right in the gut.

“Cap is not a faggot like you, princess,” Brock says, and punches him again, then throws him down on the ground. Bucky’s head hits the bench, and he stifles a groan from the impact.

He’s scared it isn’t over, but Brock just spits in his direction, and turns around to leave.

“Consider this your final warning.”

Bucky lays there for a long time, but manages to get up before anyone else comes in. He goes to the nurse and says he got hit in the head by a basketball. They let him go home without any questions.

When his mom comes to his room and sets her hand on his head, he knows that she knows he didn’t get a basketball to his head.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” She asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it, mom,” he says. She sighs, and nudges him a bit to let her in bed. She sits with her back against his headboard, and he rolls over and hugs her waist. She pets his hair as he cries.

He stays home from school the next day.

He got blood on Steve’s shirt.

~*~

_**Steve:** Hey, didn’t see you today. Everything ok?_

_**Bucky:** Yeah, just not feeling well_

_**Steve:** Aw, well I missed you today. Can I kiss it better?_

_**Bucky:** You can try :)  
_

~*~

The rest of the week saw Bucky doing his damned hardest to avoid Steve at all costs. He still texts him regularly, because he was _weak._ Even getting pushed around by Brock Rumlow couldn’t tamper Bucky’s impulse control. But he successfully did not see Steve at school all of Wednesday or Thursday.

It wasn't too difficult to achieve. Track and Field was starting up again, so every other day he was at school until five or so at practice. He ate in the scholastic clubroom with some of his friends on the team on Thursday so they could brainstorm for strategies at the event next month, and he spent the rest of his school day intensively studying for midterms. 

It wasn’t until the end of the school day on Friday when he was walking down the hall with Wanda that he saw Steve. Thankfully, he was preoccupied with his football friends to really notice Bucky. It hurt, seeing Steve and not being noticed in return, but it was for the best.

Wanda notices, of course.

“Something is going on with you,” she says, a frown on her face. Bucky plays dumb.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, a little defensively. He probably could have played that better. She gives him a look and he rolls his eyes.

“Okay, okay, I’m stressed about applying to colleges. It’s only March but I’m not really sure what I want to do, or where my family can afford.” She seems to buy it for now, probably because he really was stressed about college. She pats him on the back, and he’s reminded of the bruise he has there.

“It’ll be okay. We’re going to figure our lives out and we’re going to kick ass,” she says reassuringly. Bucky takes the comfort to heart.

He looks back just in time to see Steve’s friends start to walk in the opposite direction, but Steve catches his eye. He waves at Bucky, a small smile on his face. Bucky, noticing that Brock is nowhere in sight, smiles back and gives him a little wave in return. Steve turns around and starts to walk away.

Bucky sighs heavily, and turns to see Wanda staring at him. She quirks an eyebrow at him, and he feels himself flush.

“Uhh--” he says, but has nothing good to say in his defense.

“You still like him,” she says. It isn’t a question. They were all aware that he had a crush on Steve for most of highschool, but in that unattainable kind of way. A distant crush, a “it’ll never happen” kind of crush.

But this is different, and they both know it.

He waits, not sure what to say. But it’s Wanda, one of his best friends. She wouldn’t judge him, at least if she only knew his feelings.

He nods a bit, and then slumps his shoulders in defeat.

“Yeah,” he breaths out. It feels a little good to finally tell someone. She smiles at him, and turns.

They walk past some students starting to put up homecoming banners and flyers. 

“Wanna go stag this year?” She asks, gesturing to the homecoming decorations starting to be hung. “Or do you think he’ll ask you? She asks conspiratorially, with a mischievous smile. Bucky laughs.

“Oh no, that’s not happening. Hell would sooner freeze over,” he says, feeling a little hollow as he says it, but keeps his smile on his face anyways. She gives him a considering look.

“Still, put me on the backburner just in case.” He rolls his eyes at her.

“Baby, you know you’re my one and only,” he says, jokingly, and slings his arm over her shoulders.

~*~

_**Steve:** wanna come over?_

~*~

They’re making out on Steve’s bed, Bucky pressed into the sheets. Feeling warm and loose, and grips onto Steve tightly. 

Steve leans back just enough to look at him, and licks his lips.

“Want to…” he says, trailing off. He looks Bucky up and down and licks his lips again. “Go a little farther?” He asks, voice timid but rough. 

“ _Oh,_ ” Bucky says, voice high. His eyes flutter closed, breathing in deeply to settle the butterflies in his stomach. The rush of _want_ courses through him and settles low in his belly. “Yeah,” he says, opening his eyes back up.

He vaguely remembers telling Steve this wasn’t his first rodeo. He wonders if Steve assumes he’s not a virgin. He wonders if Steve cares.

He decides not to offer the information. He figures appearing more experienced is more appealing. Steve gets up and goes to his dresser, pulling it open and rifling around through it. Bucky tries to calm his heartbeat, but it’s to no avail. When Steve turns back around with a condom packet and a small bottle of lube, he can’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Steve says, crawling back onto the bed. Bucky laughs.

“Why would I laugh _at_ you? I’ve already been acquainted with you dick,” he says. Steve is making quick work of his own shirt and pants, and Bucky figures he has to get with the program. He pulls down his sweat pants and sits up to take off his shirt before remembering.

It’s not until he’s settled back into bed that Steve’s fingers graze over a now fading bruise on his shoulder. Steve isn’t smiling now.

“What happened?” He asks, feeling the shoulder that had collided with the gym lockers along with his forehead. Bucky looks away, shifting his shoulder to get Steve to stop touching it.

“Nothin’,” he mumbles. “Just ran into my door frame,” he says. Excuses. Lies. Bucky’s gotten good at lying.

 _You should know,_ he doesn’t say. _Why don’t you know? It was your friend,_ he bites back.

This is no way to lose his virginity.

Still, Steve looks down at him with the softest expression, and Bucky feels vulnerable. When Steve leans down to kiss him, he feels like his chest is being cracked open.

I love you, he wants to say, but doesn’t. The situation doesn’t need to be made more complicated than it already is. Bucky doesn’t need to fuck everything up more than he already has.

Steve kisses him, slow and sweet. He takes Bucky apart gently but firmly, running his hands up and down his body. Played like an easy instrument, Bucky remembers fondly when Steve reaches into his briefs. His big, calloused hands feel so good on his body.

They shed their underwear, now completely bare to one another.

“Do you, uhm, do you have a preference?” Steve asks, because Steve is so good. Bucky looks up at him in awe and wonders if maybe he’s been imagining all of the bad this whole time. How could Steve be in on all of this? What if he really just liked Bucky, wanted to make him feel good?

High on the feeling, he reaches up to run his hands through Steve’s short blonde hair. He kisses him thoroughly, moaning quietly into the kiss at the feeling of Steve everywhere.

“You can, uhm, y’know,” he says, looking down at them and then back up at Steve, hoping he gets the message without actually having to say it.

At the most inopportune time, his mother’s voice in his head was reminding him, _Those who cannot talk about sex shouldn’t be having sex._ He sighs deeply, shaking her voice out of her head.

“You can give,” he says, and Steve smiles wide and teasingly.

“Give and take?” He asks, laughter in his voice. Before Bucky can stutter an embarrassed reply, he leans down and kisses him again. “I’d be happy to give,” he says. Bucky feels himself flush, the room hot and cold all at once.

They go slow, kissing for what seems like forever before Steve lubes up his pointer finger. He circles his finger over Bucky's entrance until Bucky begs Steve to press in already. He doesn't disappoint; pressing in slow and then pulling out before coating his finger and repeating the action.

He teases Bucky for a long time while he kisses him senseless. Bucky had fingered himself plenty of times before, but he never apparently did it quite right because Steve finds this spot inside of him that makes his stomach flood with molten lava and his dick twitch as it dribbles precome.

Bucky holds onto Steve's shoulder while his thighs quiver from being held, trying to regulate his breathing as Steve draws his finger out, adds more lube, and returns with two.

It's overwhelming, is what it is. Being under Steve like this, watching his face as he concentrates on opening Bucky up. He feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes when Steve runs that spot again. His head falls back, eyes closing, and suddenly his breath is stopping right in his lungs because Steve is tucking in another finger. 

It feels wonderful, and intimate, and he needs to touch Steve back. He runs his hands from Steve's shoulders down to his back, feeling the wide expanse of it. He feels the muscles ripple under his fingertips, and he moans at how strong the blond is.

"Ready?" Steve asks, drawing back enough to look Bucky in the eyes. He nods, not sure his voice would work even if he tried. 

Steve fumbles for the condom, and after a good fifteen seconds trying to figure out which way was supposed to point outward, he managed to roll it down his cock.

They kissed as Steve pushed in, and Bucky was glad for it because it muffled his embarrassingly loud moan. Steve was big, he knew that. That dick had been in his mouth for christ sake, he knew how big it was. But his mouth and his ass were very different.

Steve buries his face into Bucky's neck, and exhales long and hard as he finally pushes in to the hilt. They wait a few moments, hearts hammering in their chests, as they get used to each other's bodies. 

So overwhelming.

"Good?' Steve asks, and Bucky doesn't really know how to answer that question, not processing what it means, how to connect his brain to his mouth for sensical words. He feels stretched, bloated up like a balloon. He feels like Steve has crawled under his skin and has taken up residence. Like he's saltwater taffy and he's being stretched, and stretched, and stretched out some more.

He just nods, and Steve kisses him again as he pulls out, and then pushes back _in_ and begins to thrust.

Bucky wails when he really gets going, fingers clawing into Steve's shoulders. Steve groans, too, kissing at Bucky's temple and hairline where he's heading with sweat. But Bucky doesn't really notice that because all he can focus on is the dick in his ass.

It's brutal, in the most sweet and intimate way. He's stretched so wide on Steve's cock, so deep that he feels it in his gut, in this throat. He knows, somewhere off in the back of his mind that objectively that makes no sense. Steve isn't impaling him on a four foot dick but that's what it _feels like_ and it feels _awesome._

Before he knows it, Steve's hand is wrapping around Bucky's own dick and starts a frantic attempt to jerk him off. Bucky moans, caught off by the feeling of sensations at both places, and throws his head back. 

With Steve kissing him at the pulse point under his ear, hand tight around his dick, cock big and moving hard and fast inside him, he comes.

He probably sounds like he's being strangled, but he doesn't care. He gave up trying to be quiet several moments ago. He hears Steve coo in his ear, feels him keep thrusting and kissing him, and Bucky is so overwhelmed by the sensations all he can do is hold onto Steve as his orgasm crashes over him in waves.

Steve must come, too, at some point. He groans and stills, his shoulders trembling. Bucky just runs his back, feeling a little out of his head at how good everything feels. Like he just took a really long run, then soaked in a hot bath, and now he was under a warm blanket. Except the blanket was a little sweaty and was breathing really heavy.

Bucky giggles at the thought--such a stupid thought. Steve leans back, looks at him smiling. Bucky is taken off guard at how bright his eyes are. He was so beautiful. 

Bucky was so fucking in love.

~*~

_**Steve:** I had a really nice time this weekend :)_

_**Bucky:** Me too :)_

__

~*~

The next week, Bucky had just gotten to school when he sees Steve talking with Wanda and Natasha. Bucky’s stomach drops, not sure what to think. But Steve is laughing, rubbing the back of this neck like he does when he's nervous. Natasha looks unimpressed with her arms crossed against her chest, but that was nothing new. Wanda was smiling.

Steve sees him first as he approaches. 

"Hey Buck," he says with that glowing smile of his. It does things to Bucky, makes his insides squirm happy. 

"Hey guys, what's going on?" He says. He looks around the hallway casually, looking out for Brock. He's nowhere in sight. When he looks back to Natasha, she's watching him with a frown.

The minute bell rings, and Steve excuses himself. Wanda and Nat are both looking at Bucky expectantly.

"What?" he asks, turning with them to walk to their first class. Natasha is silent, but Wanda speaks up.

"Are you okay, Bucky?" she asks, sounding concerned. Natasha is still looking at him. "Because you know you can talk to us, right? And that we'd never judge you?" 

Bucky pauses, seeing Wanda looking almost hurt and Nat still staring at him with a frown, with her arms still crossed. Bucky tries to laugh, brush it off. 

"Guys, I'm fine! Why does everyone keep asking me that?" But before Wanda can press further, Bucky slips into the classroom, ending the discussion.

Later that day, Bucky is walking to lunch with Clint when he sees Steve with a group of friends. The Sharon chick is hanging off of Steve's arm, laughing.

He catches Brock's eye, and the fucker just smirks at him. Bucky feels his heart sink, and quickly looks away before anyone else sees him.

Clint was watching him, though, and his friend puts his hand on Bucky's shoulder, patting him. His bruise is almost completely gone.

"Wanna come over after school?" Clint asks as they make their way to their usual table. "My brother got me some good stuff," he says, quietly so only Bucky can hear. They smile at each other.

"Totally."

~*~

Bucky was _so fucking high_.

He felt floaty, and happy, and like his body wasn't attached to this plane of existence any longer. Him and Clint were laying around in Clint’s living room, with the pipe on the coffee table and chip bags scattered around. Something was playing on the TV but Bucky couldn't figure out what it was for the life of him.

Clint is complaining about some girl named Kate and how she won't accept his advances, though he's put all of his Clint Moves on her and he's running out of ideas. Bucky can't stop staring at his phone, with his conversation with Steve pulled up.

"Man, I thought the girls were just overreacting but something really is going on with you, isn't there?" Clint asks. Bucky just sighs heavily and sets his phone down.

"I'm handling it, you guys don't have to worry," he says, giving up on denying it. Steve's been pestering him too, but how can he tell anyone what was going on? _He_ didn't even know what was going on.

"Yeah man, but we do worry. And you don't have to handle shit alone, you know? That's what friends are for." Bucky looks over at Clint, whose high as a fucking kite hugging a pillow on the other couch and looking concerned.

Bucky imagines Clint confronting Rumlow and getting his teeth knocked in, then shakes his head.

"I know, man. You're the best friend a guy could ask for," he says, and it makes Clint smile. "Just lemme see if I can work this out and if not, I'll get reinforcements, okay?" 

This seems to satisfy Clint, and he looks proud of himself for getting that answer out of Bucky because he sits up for a victory hit from the pipe. Bucky agrees to take another with him, and they cough and choke together and laugh while waving away the smoke. 

The thing is, Bucky would ask for help if he wasn't so ashamed of himself. He fell dick-first into Steve Rogers and has no excuse for himself. Bucky was a good kid; he got straight A's, he ran for the track team, and even was in student organizations in school. Sure he partied a little, but only ever with his three best friends and never did so much that it would interfere with his studies.

He loved his family and was a good son and older brother, and was a friendly neighbor and classmate. Hell, he even volunteered at soup kitchens with his mom sometimes. He was a good person, right?

So why didn't he deserve a boyfriend? Why did he have to get walloped over the first love interest he gets to explore? Even if Steve was just messing around or using him, why couldn't he be left alone in peace to do that?

Bucky doesn't realize he's crying until Clint sits with him on his couch and pets his head. Just from that simple touch, the dam breaks. Clint runs his back while Bucky cries for the second time over this stupid boy.

But Steve wasn't just a stupid boy, was he? He made Bucky laugh, and feel so good he wasn't sure he'd ever feel that good with anyone else. He was handsome and hot and such a little shit that Bucky wanted to scream in frustration.

He knew Steve wasn't serious about him, and he knew that the only way to make this all really go away was to just stop seeing Steve, stop talking to him. Rumlow would get what he wanted, and Steve could go mess around with someone else like Sharon. But Bucky was so weak and selfish. He didn't think he could be strong enough to just cut Steve out like that.

It has only been a few weeks but Steve was becoming a good friend of his, and he hated it.

When Bucky felt like he was done crying, he sat up fully. Clint offered up another hit, which he gladly took. He wanted to be out of his mind for a while, needed it. Just as they finished, the sounds of a key in the doorknob startled them.

" _Shit,_ she's home early!" Clint hisses, and the two of them scramble to clean up and hide the paraphernalia they were just partaking in. Clint grabs a smoke diffuser from his room and throws Bucky some Febreeze as Bucky scrambles to get his coat and shoes on. 

Bucky sprays as he runs to the door, and sets the canister down just in time to see Clint's mom walk in.

"By Mrs. Barton!" He says, running past her just in time to see her face harden from the smell of weed in her home.

"Dammit, Clint!" She yells, and Bucky is out the door and down the hallway, running down the stairs.

His adrenaline high tapers off as he gets to the street, and wraps his coat around himself tighter to shield himself from the chilly March air. He's still high, and probably will be for a while, so he doesn't want to go home just yet.

He takes out his phone, thinking about calling Nat or Wanda to see if they'd be down to hangout for a bit. But he knows from the ache in his chest there is only one person he wants to see.

~*~

_**Bucky:** any chance you're free rn?_

_**Steve:** I'm all yours :)_

_come over?_

~*~

He shouldn't be here, but he is; knocking on the front door of Steve's modest walk-up. He looks around, paranoid that Rumlow is somehow hiding in the bushes. But it's seven o'clock on a weekday, and it's cold, so the street is empty and there were no senior defensemen in the bushes.

Steve answers the door with a smile, wearing a faded band t-shirt and sweatpants. Even in lounge clothes he looked like the cover of a magazine.

"Hey, you. C'mon in," he says, stepping aside and letting Bucky through. As soon as the door is closed, Bucky whirls around to see him.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm not sure what I'm doing here. I got really high and I couldn't go home and I couldn't stop thinking about you and--"

Steve shushed him, cupping Bucky's cheek and leaning down to kiss him.

"Hey, you're okay. Mom's at work and what a coincidence, I missed you, too," he says, words warming Bucky up from the inside.

Steve guides him into the house, takes Bucky's coat and gets him a cup of water and a bag of pretzels.

"I really don't smoke much, but I always need a snack so I can bring down my high if it's too much," Steve was saying, tucking Bucky into his side on the couch. 

Just as Steve mentions it, Bucky realizes how gone he really is. Everything seems to be lagging; his brain is struggling to catch up with reality, like a computer glitching. 

He does feel relaxed, though, curled up into Steve's side, being fed pretzels and feeling Steve's hand run through his hair. His mind is quiet, and he wonders if that's from the high or if it's from being with Steve.

It's a really wonderful feeling.

At some point, they start kissing, and Bucky paws at Steve until he gets him on his back and Bucky climbs on top of him. 

"Buck," Steve says a little breathlessly. "Buck, we shouldn't. You're high," he says. Bucky snorts, and it isn't really that funny but _yeah_ Bucky is _really high._

"C'mon," he says instead to Steve, feeling around his chest and marveling at all of the muscle. "Just because I'm high doesn't mean I don't want you," he finds himself saying. And really, it was true.

"I always want you," he means to think it, but then words are falling out of his mouth before he can stop it. It must be the right thing to say because Steve's eyes soften, and he gets this cute little smile on his lips. So cute Bucky has to kiss it.

"Okay, okay, but let's go to my bedroom," he says, and then just _stands up._

Bucky squeals, holding onto Steve as he climbs off of the couch with Bucky wrapped around him. He laughs, because this is absolutely ridiculous, and Steve laughs too and then they're kissing while Steve bumps into walls trying his bedroom.

"Y'know, I try really hard to be the responsible one but you're such a bad influence," Steve teases. Bucky just laughs and takes off his pants.

"Lemme influence you badly, then. Get naked," he commands. 

They manage to get rid of their clothes quickly, with Steve helping Bucky with his pants. They roll around a bit, kissing and touching and just enjoying each other. Steve fingers him open again, and just like the first time, it makes Bucky whine and tremble at how good it feels.

Bucky’s jerked it when high before, so he’s aware of the funny little sensations. It mostly just relaxes his body and makes his brain slow. But having Steve touch him, stretch him open, suck and tease his nipples makes time stretch out long and slow. It feels like they’re the only two people in the world.

Bucky pushes Steve onto his back and climbs on top of him. He takes much longer than he should have rolling the condom onto Steve’s dick but he eventually manages.

“Buck, we don’t have to,” Steve says again, probably as his last attempt. Bucky replies by sinking down onto his cock.

“ _Ohh,_ I missed you,” Bucky says, eyes fluttering closed. Steve runs his hands up and down Bucky’s thighs.

“I missed you, too, sweetheart,” he whispers. Bucky looks down at him, pressing his hands to Steve’s pecs to give himself some balance. Steve was looking up at him, wide and open with emotion. It was so sweet, Bucky couldn’t stand it.

He starts to rock and loses himself in the slow grind of Steve's cockhead right up against his sweet spot. Everything is smooth and slow, one movement bleeding into the next. He feels so relaxed and tingly, loving the sensations of Steve's big hands rubbing all over him.

Steve's fingers reach up to Bucky's nipples and he hears himself moan high and breathy as sweet electricity runs from his chest straight to his groin. He grinds harder, picking up the pace, and looks down into Steve's lidded baby blue eyes looking straight at him.

"So good for me," Steve was saying, threading his hand into Bucky's hair and pulling him down so he could kiss him. Bucky goes willingly, whining at the new angle. Steve started grinding up into him, sweet and hard and so, so good.

Kissing Steve at this angle causes Bucky's dick to rub on Steve's abs. He swears, feeling that beautiful angle with Steve so bigninsode him, and his dick rubbing up against Steve's skin. 

Bucky pulls back just a tad, eyes meeting Steve's again. Steve strokes down Bucky's cheek with his hand, mumbles, "Look at you, beautiful," and Bucky--

Bucky comes, orgasm so intense as he and Steve stare into each other's eyes. His orgasm feels like waves, rippling slow like honey throughout his body. His body contorts, muscles tensing and twitching as his hands grip Steve's shoulders so hard they cramp.

Steve just coos at him, gently fucking up into him as Bucky convulsed around him. At some point Steve's eyes flutter closed and his eyebrows knit together as he comes, too, letting out a low groan.

Bucky finally takes a deep breath, coming down from the intense waves of pleasure. His body was still twitching, his hands feeling a little numb, but he's never felt better.

~*~

_**Steve:** hey, meet me in front of your locker before class? :)_

~*~

Bucky is nervous, but puts the text Steve sent him to the back of his mind while he walks into the school with Natasha, Clint, and Wanda. Clint is talking about the new episode of some show that he and Wanda have been watching, but Bucky can’t bring himself to really listen.

Natasha pats his arm, giving him a concerned look.

“You okay?” She asks just as they walk into the school. Bucky shrugs, his stomach in knots. It’s not like he can tell her that he doesn’t want Rumlow seeing Steve at his locker. 

“Yeah, just a little weird feeling after smoking with Clint yesterday,” he says, looking around anxiously. “Just glad it’s Friday,” he mutters. She laughs and agrees.

They turn the corner of the hallway where Bucky’s locker is, and he sees a crowd of people. Confused, he and the gang share a questioning look before walking forward. Some of the students look and see him, and whisper. Bucky frowns, looking around and seeing several people looking at him, giggling, and moving out of his way. When the path is finally clear, he sees--

He sees Steve in front of his locker, holding a bouquet of red roses and holding a poster board. He’s smiling, and his cheeks are red. The poster says in big blocky letters--

Bucky--I’ve had my ION you  
because you’re SODIUM fine!  
Will you go to PrOm with me?

“Why is prom spelled like that?” Natasha mutters, to which Bucky, who is frozen where he stands, says,

“Pr, praseodymium and O, oxygen. It’s a--” his voice cracks, feeling tears sting his eyes. “It’s a fucking _chemistry promposal._ ” 

Steve is still smiling nervously, holding out the bouquet of flowers. He looks over his shoulder when someone takes a picture with flash, and that’s when Bucky realizes they’ve accumulated a _crowd._

He looks around suddenly, heart beating frantically at all of the faces. He can’t seem to register it, how many people are looking at them, smiling, _laughing._ He feels Natasha put her hand on his shoulder as he steps back on wobbly legs.

What has he done to Steve? He’s in the middle of the hallway with a cheesy sign, subjecting himself to laughter for asking the resident nerd out to prom? He can’t--

He gasps, pressing his hand to his mouth, feeling his tears well over. Steve is looking concerned now, and that is when Bucky sees--

Rumlow, scowling with his arms crossed over his chest.

Eyes filled with anger, with hate, staring right at Bucky.

But turns, turns away from Steve, from his friends, from the crowd that has gathered, and _runs._

~*~

He’s hiding behind the bleachers in the empty gym, crying, when Rumlow finds him.

He doesn’t even try to make excuses. _It’s not my fault,_ he wants to say. _I didn’t want him to do this._

But it’d be a lie. It is, and he does.

Bucky’s still gasping for breath as he cries when Rumlow picks him up by the front of his shirt and slams him into the wall behind him. The back of his head smacks against the concrete wall, making his brain feel like it was bouncing around inside his skull. What little air was in his lungs gets pushed out. It’s hard to see from the tears in his eyes, and his face is red and hot, his head aching.

Rumlow keeps him suspended, pushed against the wall, and wallops him right in the stomach with the fist not holding him up.

Bucky can’t breathe, eyes wide open as he stares at nothing, mind racing and frantic as he begs his lungs to take in air. 

“I told you,” Brock growls, voice laden with hate, with anger. “I told you to _stay away from him--_ ”

And he’s punched again, this time in the face. Brock lets him fall from the force of it. He hits the floor hard without having the wherewithal to catch himself or brace for the impact. It _hurts,_ hurts so goddamn bad. He finally is able to suck in a gasp of air, his lungs doing their damndest to take in air and then expel it harshly.

What was Steve thinking? Didn’t he want to keep Bucky as his secret?

Rumlow kicks him in the stomach while he’s down, and at that Bucky finally cries out, clutching at his stomach where he’s been hit twice now. It feels like he’s been run over, like he’s being stepped on by a giant, crushing him under his boot like an insect.

He looks up, trying to blink. Rumlow is standing over him, breathing hard. His chest is heaving, his fists raised.

“Rogers is not a fag like you!” He yells, raises his fist again. Bucky closes his eyes, waiting for the impact.

Hurried footsteps sound in the gym, and just as Bucky opens his eyes he sees _Steve_ who runs right up to Rumlow and punches him square in the jaw.

“Get the fuck off of my boyfriend!” Steve yells, going to push Rumlow again as he gathers his footing. 

He feels hands on him and Bucky jumps, turning to see Natasha. She says something to him, but vision is swimming, head killing him. He looks past her and sees Wanda and Clint running in with Mr. Fury behind them. 

He blinks, and Natasha pulls him into her lap, holding his head to her chest.

“We need to call the paramedics,” somebody says. He hears more feet shuffling, somebody saying his name. Somebody is arguing--yelling, in the distance. His stomach hurts, his head, he feels like he's drunk with the spins but everything hurts and he--he’s crying, holding onto Natasha.

“I’m _sorry,_ ” he says, voice raspy. She shushes him, petting his hair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cries. 

People are talking around them. Faintly, he hears a bell ring. 

Somebody gently pries him away from Natasha. She lets him go, and he turns to lay on his back and look up at a nice looking lady in a navy blue jumpsuit with patches on the breast and shoulder.

“Hey there, kiddo. Can you tell me your name?” She asks, and shines a bright light in his eye, and then the other.

“Bucky,” he says, voice gravelly. He coughs, which makes both his stomach and head hurt worse. “Uh, James Barnes, but--but I go by Bucky,” he says.

She hums in approval, and goes about checking him over, gently pressing her hands to his head, extremities, and stomach. He winces, crying out when she touches his stomach.

“No sign of concussion,” she says. “Where does it hurt, Bucky?” She asks. 

He covers his stomach, showing her instead of speaking. She hums and starts pressing gently.

“Let me know if this hurts,” she says. It does, a little. But not enough to make him wince. Like pressing down on a healing bruise.

She continues checking out his extremities, and he turns his head to look to the middle of the gym. A police officer is there with Brock, Mr. Fury, and--Steve.

“Steve didn’t do anything,” he told the paramedic. She smiles at him, and goes back to examining him. “It was self defense. Or, in defense of me I guess. I--” 

Natasha is holding his shoulder, and he turns to look at her. She looks worried, but is trying to smile. 

“Buck, it’s okay. Mr. Fury will handle it,” say soothes. He nods, but turns back to the gym just in time to see the police officer put his hand on Brock’s shoulder and guide him away from Fury and Steve.

Steve looks like he’s shaking, and he covers his face with his hand. Fury pulls him in under his arm and rubs his back. Just as Fury turns his head, looks right at Bucky, frowning, the paramedic is speaking to him.

“Nothing is broken and there doesn’t appear to be any internal bleeding. But because you’re in school, we’re required to take you to the hospital,” she says. Bucky frowns, feeling his lip quiver. He didn’t want to keep crying, but everything was so overwhelming he couldn’t help it.

“It’s okay, Buck,” Natasha was saying, rubbing his shoulder. Bucky looks back to find Steve, but both him and Fury are gone. “Can I ride with him?” Natasha asks, as another paramedic comes up to them with a long plastic board.

“Yes, we’ll allow one guest, because he seems a little shaken.”

Bucky doesn’t really mind being talked about like he wasn’t there. His head hurt, and his stomach was sore, and he wanted to see Steve, but Steve was gone.

~*~

While he is in the hospital room waiting for his tests, a police officer comes to take his statement. His mother excuses herself, but he says Natasha can stay. She may as well hear it, since she was there.

He recounts the incident, and mentions only that Rumlow had been verbally abusive to him leading up to it, and doesn’t mention the other times he had roughed Bucky up. He says he doesn’t want to press charges.

Natasha watches him, holding his hand. When the police officer leaves, she sits back and takes a deep breath.

“Why did you lie to him?” She asks. He looks at her and is too tired to think up an excuse.

“Because he’s already probably getting suspended, maybe even kicked off the team for that. That’s enough,” he says, exhausted. He closes his eyes, and feels her climb up into the bed with him.

They’re silent for a while, but the anxiety over the test results and wondering what Steve was doing, thinking, kept him from falling asleep.

“So are you going to prom with Steve?” she asks gently. Bucky snorts and covers his face.

“ _No,_ are you crazy? Why would I go to prom with Steve?” He asks, not looking at her. He swallows, trying to keep his emotions down.

“Because he asked you, and you’re in love with him. Why wouldn’t you go with your boyfriend?” she says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

He whips his head to look at her, eyebrows creased in confusion.

“What? Who said we were boyfriends?” he asks, frantic. She just laughs.

“Dude, what are you talking about? You two have been dating for like two months. I don’t know why you were embarrassed to tell us, we knew you were--”

“Steve is not my boyfriend,” Bucky says, voice hard. The small falls off of her face.

“Well, maybe you should tell _him_ that,” she says, and flicks her eyes to the door.

As she gets up and walks out, he doesn’t watch. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t want to come face to face with who he knows is there.

Steve sets the bouquet of red roses on his bed, but he doesn’t sit down. He just stands there.

“Can I ask why?” Steve finally asks, voice not sounding like his own. The sound of it makes Bucky finally look up, seeing Steve standing there, holding his coat in his hands, eyes wide and tear-filled and so blue.

Bucky opens his mouth to speak but he doesn’t know what to say. What the hell could he say? He wasn’t even sure exactly what Steve was referring to; why Bucky ran? Why Brock was beating him senseless?

“I’m so sorry, Buck. Your friends told me you were out. I didn’t think that doing that would upset you. I just thought--”

“What are you talking about? _You’re_ the one that’s not out,” he says, which makes Steve pause and scrunch his face in confusion.

“What? My friends know I’m bisexual,” he says, which makes Bucky let out an awful, hideous laugh.

“Well apparently Rumlow didn’t,” he spits and looks away, crossing his arms.

This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t be taking this out on Steve. But what the hell?

“Rumlow’s not my friend, he’s just a teammate,” Steve says, and then walks into Bucky’s field of vision. “This isn’t fair, I have been trying to respect the fact that you didn’t want people to know we were dating, but you’re out! So what? You just didn’t want people to know you were dating _me?_ ” he says, full of anger and hurt. Bucky makes a noise of objection, sitting up higher on his hospital bed.

“What the fuck are you talking about! We’re not dating--I’m just your little secret while you experiment with guys!” he yells, and Steve stares at him, eyes wide and mouth open.

“ _What?_ ” Steve demands, throwing his coat on the ground and taking a step forward. “I asked you to be my boyfriend and you said _yes_ , and now it never happened?! What was the last two months for you? Just a way to get in my pants?” he yells, eyes brimming over with tears. 

Bucky opens his mouth and finds he has no idea what Steve is talking about.

“What?” he asks, voice small and cracking. “When did that happen?” Steve deflates immediately, stepping forward and reaching out but then hesitating. 

“Jesus Christ, did he hit you that hard?” he asks, full of concern. “Buck, I confessed my feelings to you at Tony’s party. In the bathroom,” he says, and then looks away as his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink.

Bucky wants to cry.

“No you didn't," he says, voice high and bubbled with tears. "Y-you came in and kissed me and we blew each other and--"

"And I confessed to you that I've liked you for a long time," Steve says slowly, sitting down on the side of Bucky's bed. "And then asked if you'd be my boyfriend, and you said yes." 

Bucky shakes his head but he thinks, he _knows_ , that Steve is right. He'd been so drunk, so spacey, so caught off guard that the guy he'd liked for so long was talking to him, coming onto him.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, tears welling up in his own eyes. He runs them, sighing heavily, and then looks back down at Bucky. "Buck, I'm sorry. We were both drunk, and I _knew_ it, but you--I've liked you for so long I just was so happy that--"

He stops and takes a deep breath. Bucky was staring up at him in amazement, not sure if Steve was really real. How could this be so? How could he deserve this to be true?

"I don't know, you've always been so funny and nice to everyone. I always saw you in the hallway, talking to everyone. Remember chemistry sophomore year? You were partnered with--"

"Sam," they say at the same time. Steve smiles and nods.

"Yeah, I was so jealous of him. He'd make so much fun of me that he got to study with you, talk to you, and I was too much of a chickenshit to say anything to you," Steve confesses. He looks away then, cheeks flushing pink.

"I never, uh, I never really felt confident around you. You're so smart, and you're so involved. It seemed like you talked to everyone except for me, and I figured you had a reason and just kept talking myself out of approaching you," he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Bucky sits up quickly--maybe too fast, startling Steve--and he grabs for Steve's hand.

"I--" he says, frantic to say something, anything, but he can only say, "I've been in love with you since freshman year!"

Steve's eyes are wide, and they're staring at each other, mouths both open. Steve leans forward, slowly reaching his hand not being held by Bucky to cup his cheek. Before Steve can reply, though, Bucky's mouth starts working again.

"It's not your fault, any of it! I was too drunk at Tony's, and I was so happy that you were talking to me I just--I don't know, I ran with it. I didn't remember most of it, but I treasured it. And then you kept talking to me! And kissing me, and I just thought maybe you wanted to experiment, or--or--"

And he stops, looking down as he swallowed the shame for his next thought, but he _knew_ he had to be honest, to come clean.

"I don't know, I'm not popular, or good with people. I only have a few friends, and Brock was always there at the worst times and I thought maybe you were doing it all to make fun of me? Like it was some kind of big prank? But I couldn't--" his voice breaks off as he sobs, and he looks back up and it hurts how sad Steve's eyes were, how hurt he looks-- 

"I couldn't help myself, whether you were just keeping me a secret or--or if you were doing it as a prank, I was just so _happy_ that you even looked at me. I didn't care that Brock was--" he stops, crying softly. Steve raises his hands up to wipe away Bucky's tears.

"How long, Buck?" Steve asks in a whisper. Bucky shakes his head.

"It doesn't--"

"If he was hurting you, physically or not, it _matters_ ," he says, voice firm.

Bucky catches his breath, uses his fists to rub his eyes.

"At the party, right after we--uh, you were laughing with people, and he was there, and he was looking at me, laughing. And I just thought, I don't know, you were laughing at me? And then, at school after one of the times in the bathroom he--uh, he kind of pushed me around and told me to stay away from you," he says.

Steve is quiet, waiting for him to continue, his face blank.

"And then he'd just give me these _looks_ when you'd talk to me in the hallway, or if he caught me looking at you. And then. In the locker room he, uh, he pushed me around again, but it was harder, that was when--"

"The bruises," Steve whispers. Bucky nods.

"Yeah," he agrees, and looks down at his hands.

"He's never going to touch you again," Steve vows, and Bucky nods, tears spilling over as finally, finally the day's events are becoming real to him. They caught Brock, he'd be punished, he couldn't touch Bucky again.

It was finally over.

They're both quiet for a while, just sitting there facing each other. Bucky doesn't know what it all means, doesn't know where this has left them. He's still having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that Steve likes him _back._

"Hey," Steve says, gentle like a whisper. Bucky looks up at him, and Steve threads their fingers together 

"So, did you run because of Rumlow? Or, did I embarrass you? Because I swear, I had planned it with your friends, got their approval before--" 

Bucky can't help it, he leans forward and kisses Steve. It's just a peck, but it feels significant. As he leans back, they blink at each other. 

"That was literally the nerdiest and most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me," Bucky whispers, and smiles shyly at Steve. "I'd love to go to prom with you. So long as you promise to be my boyfriend," he says. 

And Steve smiles positively radiantly. 

~*~

Bucky's test results come back clear, which is the best they could have hoped for. The doctor sends him home with strict instructions to take Advil, drink lots of water, and get a lot of rest.

Bucky introduces Steve to his mom for the first time, and Steve and Winnie have a hushed conversation outside of the hospital room before Bucky is discharged. He's not sure what they say exactly, but he can imagine. They both just smile at him, and Natasha gives him a knowing look when she catches up with them on their way out of the hospital.

That weekend, Bucky follows his doctor's orders, but does so while snuggled up with Steve on the couch in his living room, watching Hallmark movies (while Steve teases him mercilessly) and dozing on and off throughout the day. His family stays close, and they all seem to really like Steve, who is intent on taking care of Bucky all weekend.

Bucky insists on going back to school on Monday, considering midterms were upon them and he'd already missed school on Friday. Nobody argues.

Steve is waiting for him at his locker with a bouquet of roses. Bucky flushes deeply, but laughs and accepts them, and then kisses Steve right in the hallway in front of everyone. A few people hoot and holler, but Bucky isn't concerned. 

Rumlow has been suspended for a month, and kicked off of the football team as expected. Bucky hears he also has mandatory therapy sessions, so he is happily ignoring Rumlow's existence until he is back to school. By then, it'll only be a few short weeks until they graduate, and he'll never have to see Rumlow again.

"There you are," Steve says, finding Bucky waiting for him at his locker. Bucky beams up at him, thumbs hooked into the straps of his backpack.

Steve throws his arm over Bucky's shoulder and kisses his temple. 

"Good day?" Steve asks him as they walk with the flow of students leaving for the day. 

Bucky hums an answer, and leans into Steve, feeling his smile on his face, feeling good.

He's exactly where he wants to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky and Steve engage in dubiously consented sex multiple times while they are drunk/high.
> 
> Brock Rumlow bullies and engages in physical assault towards Bucky and uses inflammatory and homophobic language towards him.
> 
> I chose to select the Archive warnings, but there is no serious harm done by the assault or bullying (I mean medically speaking, no blood/serious injuries). Both Steve and Bucky are 17 years old, and are therefore engaging in consensual but underage sexual acts.
> 
> \--  
> Well, that was one hell of a ride. What did you think?


End file.
